Of Spars and Tiebreakers
by MrsShadow
Summary: Isabelle Shepard is pissed, Garrus is just being a good friend and helping her relax...Right?
1. The Spar

Of Spars and Tiebreakers.

Disclaimer: I don't own Garrus and I don't own Shepard. I don't make any money off of this - I just do it for fun. Mind you, Shepard's personality is mine and mine alone. Don't steal her or I may bite.

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Isabelle Shepard was, to put it lightly, in a mood. Stormy grey eyes could melt the hull and had effectively warded off any concerned well wishers. As she moved through the ship her gate was full of dark purpose. Miranda would say Isabelle was in "Iron Clad Bitch" mode; a name the crew was fond of using, and equally fond of getting the hell out of dodge when the mood rose in their Commander.

Her ship was in top form, every upgrade in place, every crew member prepared for the possibility of death. What had her grinding her teeth and wanting to pulverize the next person she saw was completely external. The Illusive Man had sent a message to her terminal- saying in no uncertain terms to get her ass moving and get the job done. This was her damn ship - her mission - her fucking crew and when this was all over the Illusive Man was going to know just what she thought of him.

The molten path Shepard had been cutting through the galley came to a halt as she barreled into the resident gun calibrator - Garrus Vakarian.

"Whoa Shepard. Who the hell shoved a stick up your ass tonight?" He rumbled in his strange but enticing flanging voice.

" Fuck you Garrus, you know who! The Illusive - fucking- Man."

All she got in response was a snort and amused fluttering of mandibles. Huffing and pushing herself out of the Turian's reflexive embrace she slide a hand over her civvies, smoothing out non existent wrinkles in a show of dismissal.

"I swear Shepard; its only the people in command positions that can work you up to this state."

"Oh bite me Vakarian." She shot back, eyes hard but slowly giving way to amusement.

Garrus shook his head, taking in her predatory stance, the tension thrumming through her. Making a decision he tilted his head and issued an invitation.

"If you're that pissed, take it to the floor - spar with me."

Isabella only had to consider it for a split second before the intense hot and compelling need to beat the hell out of something answered for her.

"Lead the way."

The walk down to the cargo hold was relatively silent, save for the occasional snide comment and the barking replies that followed. The human commander and turian sniper had been fast friends in their mission to stop Saren and the friendship had been easily rekindled after her death and rebirth.

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There was something distinctly off about his commander tonight. Garrus couldn't put his finger on it exactly but she was virtually singing with stress, rage and tension he'd never really put into an equation with Shepard before. It was messing with his head on a level that he - as a Turian- didn't want to consider, and as her friend concerned him.

It was what had compelled him to ask her to spar, and even now as the last mat was being set into place and heavy armor started being shed - he did not regret. This was something humans could take from Turian culture - a good spar every now and then was cathartic and let you get your head back in the game.

However, when Garrus looked up, having finally shed the last of his armor, he felt his mouth go dry and every male aspect of his being look up and say hello. Shepard was sitting in a split, twisted at the waist to face her left leg and was bent forward to her foot - stretching. While he'd known most species apart from his own were flexible in extreme ways, to see his commander execute such a move was strangely …erotic.

"Are you just going to stand there and gape Vakarian or are you going to limber up?" Isabelle inquired, standing and immediately bending backwards until she looked like she would break in half. Grumbling a reply, Garrus made short work of his stretches, straightening when he saw Shepard had completed her own tantalizing display.

'Tantalizing….did I really just think of my best friend and Commander as tantalizing?' he muttered in the confines of his head as he took a defensive stance.

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Isabelle studied the sturdy turian, sizing up his defense and the best way to start this. She wasn't eager to engage talons or leg spurs - but seeing as this wasn't an actual fight she couldn't employ more underhanded tactics like going for his softer plated waist. Finally deciding to just go, she threw two punches at his face, sharp and short, enough to get him moving and not actually meant to land on target.

The spar erupted from there. Soon fists were followed by feet as the momentum evolved. Her breath came in controlled heaves, a fine sheen of sweat coated her honey toned skin. A good ten minutes in even her mood was lighter - hard jabs became playful, kicks became less violent and uncontrolled.

As Garrus picked up on this he eased back as well. Now she took the time to take in the rather impressive visage that was her friend. Even with his cybernetics, Garrus was handsome. He stood at least a head if not more taller than her and was rather nicely built for a turian. Its not like she was an authority on such matters but in her own opinion, having interacted with Nihlus and Saren, she vastly preferred her turian's build over theirs.

It was the commander's musings over the sniper's physique that landed her flat on her back , wrists pinned and at a distinct disadvantage. Growling at her stupidity she looked at the smirking turian.

"Yield Shepard?"

"In your dreams Vakarian"

Planting her feet firmly on the mat, she heaved her hips up in an attempt to dislodge Garrus. He laughed as he lost his grip on her wrists and the spar started anew. After some fifteen minutes, they both noticed that some of the crew had heard their banter, growls and grunts of exertion, meandering down to see what exactly was going on in the bowels of the ship.

Bets were being placed now, Chakwas and Mordin among the minority of betting for Garrus to win the bout. Miranda and Thane were no where to be seen but Yeoman Kelly and Tali cheered with enthusiasm for the Commander.

The spar dragged and dragged, Isabelle had executed some of her favorite and most distracting moves only to be countered by Garrus' reach. Grumbling she decided to start using her own height to try and tip the scales.

Dancing into his personal space, she began landing open handed hits on his plated torso, shifting like water away from the turian's attempts to grab her. Confusion was clearly getting to him, mandibles held close to his mouth and normally amused blue eyes starting to take Isabelle seriously once more.

They'd been at this for nearly two hours now. Two exhilarating hours! Garrus reveled in each landed hit and each dodge. All the stresses of the last nine months melted away, thoughts that had plagued him for days righted themselves and got filed away.

The only problem now was that there were bets being placed; a show to put on and for the life of him - he could not focus. She. Was. God. Damned. Sex. In. motion. And it was severely screwing with him. They'd fought together before, and that was a fact that made these reactions strange. He'd seen her fighting millions of times now, it had never effected him like this- not once.

Her soft hands were landing blows on his plates - it was heavenly in a strange sort of way. Were he with another turian it would be no more than an open handed blow. But with her - Isabelle - Valkyrie Commander of his life - it was turning highly erotic with a speed that would soon embarrass him.

Flipping through his options, he managed to grab the slippery female and take her to the mats. Wrestling her into a figure four hold he waited patiently for her sign of yield. Growling when she would not give it he pulled a bit tighter ad waited.

The crowd was nearly silent, waiting to see what was going to happen. Would the commander break it, go completely primal on the turian, or admit defeat? After some tense moments, she sounded her defeat.

"I yield…" She muttered, and was instantly released. Cheers and groans sounded in the crowd; but neither participant of the spar paid any mind.

Storm grey eyes, intense and searching, met feral blue and a new, shorter, nearly unseen spar took place. Only one keen eyed Salarian took any notice.

"Care to try this again….without the crowds?" Shepard murmured, counting on Garrus' superior hearing. Her words though seemingly innocent, were delivered with a smile that sent pleasant shivers up and down the man's spine.

"Lead the way" he shot back, voice dropping an octave, a deep rumbling chuckle bubbling forth when the Commander's eyes dilated ever so slightly.

It was going to be a very interesting night.

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A/N: Well what do you think? The steamy bits are coming. The fight isn't actually all that well described I know. But with a lack of resources and no practical experience I felt it best to focus my attentions else where. Leave a review!


	2. In the Elevator

Of Spars and Tiebreakers 2.

Disclaimer: I don't own Shepard or Garrus, Bioware does. I don't make money off of this - but it is damn fun. Also this Shepard's personality is mine, so no stealing her.

A/N: Thank you so much to the reviewers! Thanks Jelfia for pointing out the errors also!

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The post spar haze clung to the duo as they stood in the elevator. Grey depths with an orange glow, slid over Garrus' body in slow, intense motions. The turian in question was leaning as he usually did, arms crossed over his chest, one foot on the wall opposite the Commander.

"Shepard"

One word had her looking up at Garrus, lips tugged into a grin. "Yeah?"

"Looks like both sets of armor could do with some cleaning…" He rumbled deep in his chest, mandibles splayed in what Shepard has begun to equate with a smirk. Laughing throatily she crosses her own arms and leans her weight to one side, left hip jutting out.

"Why, you offering to clean it?"

"Not exactly Shepard. I was thinking we could put our own wager on this next little spar we aim to have."

Intrigued, Isabelle stayed silent, motioning for him to continue with a sweep of her hand.

" The rules are simple - we go all out, just no broken bones or lacerations, who ever wins cleans the other's armor in addition to their own." Shrugging as he spoke, Garrus waited for the Commander's opinion. He waited only a few moments to hear her speak.

"I like upping the stakes…but really, armor cleaning? We aren't Cadets anymore Vakarian." Smirking she saunters over to him from her spot on the opposite side of elevator.

Garrus feels his blood start to rush, even without the fringe and plating he is so accustomed to, he is now far more aware of why Humans are considered apex predators now. Isabelle, should She be so inclined, could pull a knife; a gun; hell she could even hit him and he wouldn't even see it coming. All Garrus could see was a honey colored red head, with eyes like gems, blood red lips and generous curves encased in black spandex.

Hell yes, Isabelle Shepard could do whatever she wanted to Garrus right now and he wouldn't even know what hit him. She knew it too, her hips were swaying more - he swears its more than usual- and she's leaning - touching his chest - with the tips of her fingers.

"How about this, Garrus," Her breath is warm, surprisingly sweet as opposed to odorous like most of her species. The turian wonders what she's been eating, fruit perhaps, certainly not meat….

"You win - you get me for a day , I win - your ass is mine for a day." Isabelle is smirking, face so close he can see the small, hairline scars that her reconstruction left behind, her voice is washing over him in waves of warm sensuality and he can't think.

They stay locked like that until the elevator stops at Shepard's room, EDI can be heard in the background, enquiring as to why they've yet to leave the small enclosure. The sound of the ship VI jolts Garrus from his stupor.

"Sounds like a wager." Vakarian rumbles low in his chest.

Smiling in victory, Shepard steps back and exit's into the hall, red hair falling over her shoulder as she shoots a now shy look over her shoulder, waiting for Garrus.

"Well, come on Garrus, before EDI sends out a search party."

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A/N: It's a teaser chapter. More to come with steamy steam wrestling in Shepard's room ; )


	3. An unexpected turn?

Of Spars and Tiebreakers

Disclaimer: Isabelle's personality is mine, she physically is owned by Bioware, along with Garrus.

A/N: Thank you for the amazing reviews! I'm stoked that so many people have taken a liking to this!

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Garrus followed Isabelle's mesmerizing hips into the Commander's room, blood rushing around his body at a million miles an hour. He took in every move she made and every breath she took.

'How have I never noticed her hair? It looks so….strange, shiny, probably soft…I can smell it from here, all flowers and electricity…Probably from her guns.' He mused, depositing his bag of armor by the door.

"So Garrus, this is going to be pretty tight." Isabelle started, voice light, eyes direct and teasing.

"Uh…Yeah…I guess if all else fails we can just wrestle." He retorted before his brain caught up with him and how it sounded, with him here in her bedroom. Mentally groaning, Garrus waited for the Commander to make a comment, when she didn't he looked at her - failing completely to stop a growl from ripping through his body and out of his mouth.

There she was, on her knees, stowing still dirty armor under her bed of all places. A pert bottom wiggled at him with each move- as Shepard was seemingly unable to just stow the suit in one sweep. Each piece was carefully extracted from the pack and then slipped beneath the bed, causing her to bend over further, bottom wiggling in a near obscene manner at the turian.

"What the hell are you doing Shepard?"

Looking up with wide, innocent - too innocent- eyes the Commander answers, "Stowing my shit? When did that become against the rules?"

"Under your bed?"

"Where else would you put it, I don't want my locker dirty and there isn't a whole lot of room to put this stuff anywhere else….So I figured this was the best place to put it, I mean it's a tight fit…."

Garrus didn't even let her finish the sentence - he pounced. Tackling her to the ground, wrists pinned neatly in one of his larger hands, Garrus hovered over her.

'Thank God, I thought I was going to have to strip for him to get the point.'

Isabelle bucked instinctively, having never truly liked being at the mercy of another. It was a rather poor attempt to dislodge the turian on top of her however, his eyes were like magnets, drawing all her focus, even the breath from her lungs as they just…watched each other.

Neither noticed that they were moving closer, Isabelle craning her head up, struggling slightly against his hold on her, Garrus leaning down, taking in her soft and feminine scent. Before Garrus knew it, he had his face buried in the Commander's neck, nuzzling, taking deep breaths of her scent and marveling at it.

'So sweet, completely female and not all submissive…Dominant…Mate….'

Isabelle blinked, the haze induced from just looking at Garrus dissipating, leaving her to wiggle and bite back a moan as his rough skin brushed repeatedly over her neck. It felt divine! Why hadn't she thought to rile him like this sooner?

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Foreheads touch gently, smiles bloom across each face in their own way before Isabelle leans up and presses her soft lips to Garrus' hard mouth plates. It feels…decedent, like the softest silk brushing over his skin. When she pulls away, he mourns the loss of her lips, dipping his head, following them blindly. Barely allowing a soft giggle to escape to the air; Garrus presses his mouth to hers again- pulling back a little when her wet tongue pokes a him.

"Shep-"

"Izzy" She cuts him off with a smile.

"Izzy" He agrees, just as Shepard surges forward and takes claim of his mouth, tongue slipping between lips and sharp teeth to stroke at it's counter part.

The feeling is quite alien to Garrus - Turian's don't do this sort of thing. Sharing saliva in this fashion was - gross- at least before Izzy Shepard came around. Tenatively he moves his tongue along her's mimicking movements, emboldened by a soft moan travels from Isabelle. They kiss like this until the Commander can no longer breath steadily, pulling away reluctantly to gulp at the air, eyes bright, face flush, soft breasts pushing at Garrus' chest with each breath.

"Prehensil and forked tongue - I like it" She breaths, lips curling into a devilish smile between breaths. Pleased, Garrus catchs himself preening at her obvious pleasure from a simple kiss before taking control of her mouth again.

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Isabelle was enjoying her self. Being pressed against Garrus was so different, he was all hard edges and strength, nothing soft about him except his personality - and recently even that had hardened.

But making out like two randy teenagers wasn't precisely what they were supposed to do. Planting her feet on either side of Garrus hips - earning her a strangled growl, she bucked hard, sending the unsuspecting male tumbling to the side. Following, she landed on top of him, giving a firm head butt before rolling away and taking up a crouching stance at the end of her bed.

Garrus lay dazed for all of a second before adrenaline and every battle-mate instinct bred into his species surged in his blood. Rolling and croushing mimicking the renegade spectre he'd come to be entranced with. Both waited, staring the other down and suddenly , Shepard sprang with a low growl. She wasn't armored like he was, no talons - what was she doing?

Isabelle was caught easily and slamed into her armoir, held loose by his talons around her neck, she punched him straight in the face. To her surprise he only snarled in her face and turned her head to the side. Stepping close, Garrus was as close to her as he could be without them actually having sex.

"This is going to hurt.." He rumbled in a sing song way and then bit down with lighting speed on her neck. She yelped - couldn't help it, his teeth were fucking sharp, and it **stung**!

The yelp from his newly marked mate, calmed Garrus somewhat, urging him to lick almost apologetically at the wound, so clear and prominent on Shepard's neck. As he did so, a pleased rumble started in his chest and talons that had previously held her in place, now explored her back and sides.

"What the Fuck was that Vakarian?" Isabelle demanded breathlessly, all the fight taken from her, pleasure sparks running up and down every cell of her body now.

"You're Mine now Shepard…Mine"

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AN: Ok so I know I said this would be three parts. However I left this so long that where it was going to go in this chapter has escaped my mind. So I am posting this and making the "home stretch" as it were in the fourth and final chapter! There may be a sequel…who knows?


	4. In the end

Of Spars and Tiebreakers.

Finale

A/N: Wow, I thought I had more up to this story than I do (insert laughing at self here) This should be the final installment even with the quirk I added in at the end of the last chapter. I'm thinking about outlining and putting up a more in-depth story of what happens after but who knows if that would ever get finished…

So without further ado I give you the much anticipated smut scene.

This is dedicated to all my readers especially Jelfia Maleak who found a few errors and pointed them out to me. 3

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Isabelle knew somewhere in the back of her mind, that she should be worried by Garrus' nonchalant statement; however, his tongue was working some magic on her neck right now and she couldn't be bothered to care. Being immobile and at this man's mercy was thrilling in a new unexplored way for Isabelle, no one else ever made it out walking from an encounter with her that ended with her pinned but this was Garrus…Second in command to her in all but name, her confidant, best friend, battle buddy and now lover.

Garrus felt Izzy's attention slip from the activities at hand and rumbled, mildly put out he wasn't doing a good job in keeping her mind on the here and now. Redoubling his efforts he nipped at her mark, which was still slowly bleeding, his mandibles twitching into a smirk when he felt her intake of breath. Using his free hand, he trailed the sharp edges of usually glove encased talons down the front of Shepard's under armor, delighting in the way her cheeks turned red and her body subtly arched into the dangerous caress.

The talon's slid through the otherwise strong material like butter, baring taut honey colored flesh to Garrus' hungry eyes. Backing up from her a step, even releasing her hands from captivity He set about baring more of her to the world, specifically to touch and taste.

"Stay still" He warned with a low growl, daring his pretty, soft, ultimately fragile mate to move, talons ripping through her black spandex with speed and precision until only her arms and legs were still encased.

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Shepard was still under Garrus' movements, caught off guard by his low command, teased by it, brought back to days where she was still more a woman than soldier. It excited her, softened her in these precious moments.

As Garrus took first one arm and then the other in his hands, using his sharp, deadly talons to free her of the spandex, she watched him. Everything about Garrus screamed predator, but now, right here in such close proximity, each movement was indescribable. He never pressed hard with his talons - not enough to damage her - even if she lacked a skin weave- the hunger in his eyes, that thrummed through his body called to her, warmed the pit of her stomach and made her blush for the firs time in at least a decade.

Swallowing, taking a sip of air, Isabelle dared whisper, eyes locked on her partner as he knelt and began the process again on her right leg. "Garrus what are you doing to me…"

"There are a few ways I could answer that, Belle."

"Well….Try." She whispered, watching through her eye lashes as the last of her spandex and neoprene suit slid from her skin to rest on the floor.

Garrus shuffled back fro her then, looking over her curves, taking in the valley between her breasts, the soft swell of her hips, the strength in her legs. It was a long moment of silence in which the Commander actually squirmed, something she hadn't done since she was a girl.

"I am going to ravish you, love you, take you apart and put you back together again so pleasure consumes you, so the only thing that takes you from my arms is the Collectors and Reapers."

"Oh" was all Shepard could manage, all her now slightly fuzzy brain could come up with for her.

Mandibles twitching in a turian's version of a smirk, Garrus took a step forward, close enough so Isabelle could wind her arms up around his shoulders and the low ridged cowl around his neck, tilting her head back, boosting up on her toes to press her forehead against Garrus'. The movement caught the vigilante off guard for about a second, before he chuckled, picking the Commander up.

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Strangely, Isabelle was at ease, each display of dominance causing the fire in her belly to flare up deliciously. Though she was in Garrus' arms for a few moments before being dropped rather unceremoniously onto her bed, it was exhilarating, a feeling of home, safety and the incredible urge to get him between her legs abounded.

Watching her soon-to-be lover shed his own cloths, she shifted into a kneeling position, legs folded under her, arms supporting her as she leant forward slightly. Isabelle was going to have sex with the alien male, no doubt enjoy it and want more, but she was going to do it on her terms she decided. A small wicked smirk tugged her lips, eyes a stormy orange lighting as a devious plan to win the new "spar" and get her turian for a whole day formed quickly in her mind.

As Garrus stalked forward, Isabelle sprang forward effectively startling Garrus and taking him to the floor. In a tangle of limbs they rolled, grappling, with squeaks and playful growls filling the room. Grunts and laughter sounded when the duo slammed into the walls, bed and other furniture packed into the small room. When they came to rest, Isabelle was pinned again, laughter shining in her eyes as Garrus loomed over her, tired of playing.

"Submit"

"Make me"

A mandible twitched and Garrus pointedly looked down at Isabelle. The human woman shrugged as if to say "Yes, and?" Her answer came in the form of a growl and Garrus hiking one of her legs to rest against his waist.

"You're under me…Ready to see if you can handle a turian, little human?" it was a taunt, bait to get her to fight him more, to make this violent, put this encounter back into Garrus' comfort zone.

"Born ready, turian"

There was a flurry of motion then, mouths thought to be unsuited to each other crashing against each other; lips; teeth and tongue probing at their counterparts seeking familiarity. The need for air pulled them apart, Isabelle's lips red and bruised, begging for more attention as they parted for sips of breath.

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Garrus blazed a molten path of licks and nips over the skin of Isabelle's neck, paying special attention to the mark on her shoulder. Isabelle squirmed underneath Garrus, the softness of her breasts pressing against his chest plates. The feeling was new and different for the turian sniper, but on the whole - he could get used to it.

The sandpaper feel of his tongue on her skin - it ignited fire under Isabelle's skin, made her whine and moan. Ever murmured noise encouraged Garrus, staved off the panic brewing in the back of his mind. The hand that held Isabelle's leg against his waist began stroking her thigh; inching to cup her ass cheek, his talons cutting into her skin a bit and only serving to drive her passion higher.

"Everything about you is so soft…" Garrus marveled at the woman underneath him. Nothing stood between her and death but man-made armor, hell he had seen her die and now she was back, his - if only for these moments.

The Commander groaned when he poked at her breasts, wiggling her hands from his grip to smooth over his arm and rest on his hand, showing him how to touch her, not flinching if his talon caught her in the wrong way. Their movements were exploratory, breaths heavy, eyes bright with lust as they touched and learned.

Garrus rumbled in pleasure when Shepard's hands found the taper of his waist, ground into her core when she ran her fingers over his fringe. He drank each arch of her back, loved every whisper of sound his hands evoked from Isabelle's body.

Suckling nipples and seeing the look on Shepard's face when he did sent a thrill through him. The feel of her soft lips dancing over his skin was amazing, but soon he wanted to explore more than her mouth and breaths; draw frenzied moans instead of soft lazy ones. The sniper laid a path of licks and nibbles down Isabelle's torso, leaving little skin untouched, purring as he heard her breathy moans; his hands followed close behind his mouth, settling at the curve of her wasp-like waist even as he descended lower.

Kissing over wiggling hips, Garrus looked up in time to see honey hands flit up to caress and pinch at tawny nipples. The sight sent his lust roaring, his groin plates shifting open now and letting his hardness protrude, twitching with an urgent need. Shepard, unaware of Garrus' state bumped her mound against his chin, giggling darkly at the look in her turian's eyes. Curiosity warred with want and uncertainty as Garrus came face to face with Sheppard's genitalia.

"So vulnerable," he murmured, bringing a talon to trace over her lips, head cocking to the side when he encountered stubble. Isabelle laughed throatily when he looked up for an explanation.

"Human's have hair on their respective genitals…I choose to remove mine for the sake of easy upkeep" She explained, hands still providing a mesmerizing show for her lover, even being as bold as to reach down and part her naked lips; making her scent wash over Garrus and allowing to see there was more to her than what was outwardly presented.

Carefully the male explored with his talons, tracing inside each of her outer lips and then pinching very warily the inner lips, making Isabelle's hand fall away and coaxing a squeal from her lips. What baffled him the most was the slickness of her and a small little bud that if he flicked made his little human shout and raise her hips encouragingly.

"L-lick it." She breathed out softly, as Garrus took her in, mussed Red locks pulled from her pristine bun, flushed pink skin and glossy eyes.

"Vakarian…please." She murmured again, the hand that had held her lips open for him petting along is fringe making him growl.

Deciding it couldn't kill him - and if he were allergic he could simply run down to Mordin, decency be damned, Garrus parted Shepard to his eyes again and leaned forward. His rough forked tongue slid from between his mouth plates and took a slow swipe along Isabelle's slit, a low moan drifted to his ears and drove him to do it again.

Soon Garrus feasted on her with abandon, happy after a few minutes he wouldn't go into anaphylactic shock. His tongue and talons mapped out the little orifice between his Commander's legs and he ground his cock into the floor to try and alleviate his rising passion as Isabelle cries and movements became more and more pronounced. Thigh's now well known; clench around the sniper's head, mandibles rubbing against the soft skin as his tongue, slick with the taste of her delved deeper, burrowing into her until the woman screamed.

Isabelle came undone at Garrus' torture, chest heaving in effort to reclaim the breath stolen by her sniper's devil tongue. Her blunt nails scrabbling for purchase at her lover's fringe, cries for mercy as he drove her higher to near the point of painful bliss.

"Garrus, Garrus! I yield! Let me tend to your pleasures" the breathless plea fell upon Garrus' ears and he growled in answer against her lips before pulling away.

Sitting up, he took stock in the havoc he wrought upon his battle mate. Her breasts heaving in the light, a sight that should not rouse him, but did none the less. His wild mate's fiery mane moves like water as she sits up and begins her explorations.

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"All hard edges without forgiveness" Isabelle quips, fingers and lips tracing each line, scar and ridge of Garrus' chest plates. The purrs of her lover's flanged voice, spurred the woman on, lips and teeth finding the soft skin of his neck, the sensitive nip of his waist.

The true pleasure however was found below her lover's waist; Shepard had thought to find Garrus formed in such a way she could not accommodate him. However, such was not the case as she knelt before her quarry. Blue tinged skin with little roughness to it; surrounded but places, the head near as wide as his shaft, ridged in a foreign way to her orange tinted eyes.

"Are you going to just stare at it or do something with it woman?"

Garrus' deep, flanged voice broke Isabelle from her perusal of his member and she turned wicked eyes upon his face. Watching the lust on his face, Shepard leant close, her slippery pink tongue peaking from between her lips to catch a taste of the fluids he produced. Licking and kissing along Garrus' hardness, nimble fingers trailing not far behind, Isabelle found she enjoyed his sweet taste, a far cry from the salt-sweat taste of her previous encounters.

Brushing her hair from her shoulders, Isabelle brought her lips to wrap around the head of his phallus. With torture upon her mine, she began her assault, lips and tongue moving, sucking; smoothing along each vein and ridge- revisiting the pleasures given to her upon him.

Smiling when she felt talons snuck to tangle in her hair, Shepard was caught off guard when the same talons pulled her forward. In moments Garrus took her control away once more, his hips thrusting his cock between her lips in a mimicry of what was to come in moments . It was exhilarating to be at her second in command's mercy.

Garrus' mandibles widened into a smirk, eyes on his flesh disappearing between Shepard's lips, blood rushing hot beneath his plates. The inkling of Shepard taking pleasure from the way he manhandled her drove him faster. His thrusts were brutal and relentless Shepard receiving them with only a mild struggle, her mouth and throat welcoming, clenching around him.

All to soon for Shepard's liking, she was pulled off and away from the blue twitching cock, only the harsh breaths of the couple to fill the silence before she was tossed onto her back. Garrus followed close after, notching himself between her drenched thighs seeking entrance into her warmth. The first thrust wrenched a shriek from the woman's red and bruised lips, her head pressing into her mattress as her back arched.

Garrus held her steady as he thrust home, groaning at the combine slickness her tightness of her cunt. His pace was unforgiving on Shepard's channel, his girth something that she'd not known before. They were a flurry of motion, teeth, tongues, lips and hands scratching; biting and smoothing over each others flesh. Twice Garrus bit harder at Shepard's mating wound before withdrawing and flipping his commander onto her stomach.

"Kneel, Isabelle."

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Oddly, Shepard did not question the command, instead curling her knees under herself, spreading her legs wide pressing her breasts to the coverlet of her bed and resting her cheek against her forearms. From the corner of her vision she saw Garrus' mandibles widen into a pleased grin and moaned low when he took hold of her hips with his talons thrusting into her once more.

She rode his thrusts as best she could, pushing back as much as Garrus would allow. It was quickly apparent to her that Garrus wanted to wrench noises of pleasure from her, and she gave them freely. The fire within her womb grew and with it the volume of her cries. When Garrus withdrew from her canal yet again it wrenched a whimper from her body.

"Garrus!" She whined as he maneuvered her to sitting astride his hips, one hand steadying her hips the other cupping and caressing a breast.

"Shepard," He growled, eyes hard on her face, lust clear within their depths.

"You best hold on woman."

Raising an eyebrow Isabelle parted her lips in retort but the only thing that was uttered was a scream as Garrus pierced her yet again. From that moment their movements were a blur again. He had her screaming over him, made her cum underneath him. Garrus took Shepard against her fish tank; fucked her on the floor; plowed her across her desk until he couldn't hold back anymore. The force of his orgasm rendered the turian motionless, hovering precariously over his lover.

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The next morning Shepard walked towards Mordin Solus' lab with a spring and bit of a limp in her step. No one noticed the commander until she entered the lab to see Garrus undressed on a table with Mordin hovering over him; scanning away and chattering with typical speed. Both turned towards the door when it closed, eyes lighting up like Christmas com early after settling on Shepard. Within moments the crew heard the commander's screech.

"What the FUCK do you mean scanning while sexual intercourse is had?"

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FIN -

Well I hoped you liked it!


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